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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


GIFT  OF 

Marion  Randall  Parsons 


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THE  DANCE  OF 
THE  SEASONS 


HARRIET 


MONROE 


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THE  DANCE  OF 
THE  SEASONS 

MONROE 

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Copyright  1911 

by 
Harriet  Monroe 


GIFT 

' 


Printed  by  courteous  permission  of  the 

Fortnightly  Review,  in  which  the  -poem  first  appeared 

in  May,  iqo8 


To  K.  McD.  H. 


M816623 


THE  DANCE  OF  THE  SEASONS 

I — SPRING 
Allegro 

Wake !  wake ! 

Out  of  the  snow  and  the  mist, 
In  rain-wet,  wind-blown  gauze 
Of  amber  and  amethyst 
Cometh  Spring  like  a  girl. 
Trembling   and  timorous 
She  peers  through  the  thin  white  thaws, 
Afraid  of  the  winds  that  whirl 
Down  paths  all  perilous 
Where  her  so  tender  feet  are  softly  going, 
Where   the  rich  earth  awaiteth  her  lavish 

sowing 

Of  green  and  purple  and  white 
In  the  gardens  of  day  and  night. 

Hither  she  cometh — 
Behold  her,  the  wraith  so  frail! 
The  chill  gray  storm  benumbeth 
Her  delicate  fingers  pale, 
And  looseth  her  hair  from  its  fillet  of  pearl. 


THE    DANCE    OF    THE    SEASONS 

Her  soft  dew-frosted  eyes — 
The  virginal  eyes  of  a  girl — 
Gaze  at  the  foam-veiled  skies, 
Search  for  the  sun  who  hideth 
His  amorous  glowing  face, 
For  the  spirit  of  life  that  glideth 
Unseen  through  every  place. 

Blown!  blown — 
Hither  and  yon, 
Dashed  by  the  winds  that  groan, 
Lashed  by  the  frost-elves  wan, 
"Whipped  by  the  envious  ghosts  of  old  years 

long  gone, 

That  chatter  and  sigh 
Of  the  ruin  nigh, 
Of  death  and  darkness  and  sorrow  that  come 

anon. 

Yet  bold  and  brave 
She  dares — the  young  Spring — to  dance  on 

that  ancient  grave, 
To  dance  with  delicate  feet 
On  the  world's  despair  and  defeat, 
On  the  Winter  that  covereth  all 
With  an  ashen  pall. 


THE    DANCE    OF    THE    SEASONS 

Lo,  she  lifts  the  cover — 
A  corner  of  that  icy  pall  she  lifts. 
Lo  earth,  great-hearted  lover, 
Smiles  upward  through  the  dew-bespangled 

rifts. 

And  shining  sunbeams,  pages  of  the  day, 
Roll  up  the  mantle,  bear  it  far  away. 
Then  the  earth  laughs  with  pleasure, 
And  tosses  from  her  treasure 
Store  of  blue  crocuses  and  snow-drops  white, 
Glad    trilliums    that    make    the    woodland 

bright, 

Rich  arbutus  and  shadowy  violets; 
Till,  caught  in  webs  of  bloom, 
Light-footed  Spring  her  stormy  woe  forgets, 
Forgets  the  cold,  the  gloom, 
Blesses  with  errant  grace 
Each  dim  forgotten  place, 
Casts  on  the  oak  its  rosy  velvet  dress 
Of  drooping  leaves,  muffles  the  maples  bare 
In  lilac  veils,  covers  with  tenderness 
The  harsh  brown  world ;  and  then,  when  all  is 

won, 
Trails  languorous  dreams,  dreams  exquisite 

and  rare, 


THE    DANCE     OF    THE    SEASONS 

And  shrinking  from  the  bold,  too  fervid  sun, 

She  giveth  over 

Her  royal  lover 

Like  one  afraid  of  love,  who  will  not  stay 

Love's  perfect  day. 

She  giveth  over — 

Inconstant  rover — 

Her  glad  green  garlanded  world,  and  like 

the  dew 

Sleeps  in  the  blue. 
She  tosseth  down 
Her  flowery  crown 
Into  the  lap  of  Summer- 
Glad  newcomer! — 
Smiling  adorns  her  with  treasure  of  growing 

things 

And  softly  sings, 
The  while  she  fades  in  light — 
A  wraith,  a  mist 
Of  amethyst; 

A  spirit,  a  dream  that  goeth, 
But  whither — who  knoweth? 


THE    DANCE     OF    THE     SEASONS 

II — SUMMER 

Andante 

Hush!  hush! 
Wake  not  the  drowsy  Summer — she  would 

dream, 

Heavy  with  growing  things. 
Dance  lightly  where  her  beauty  lies  a-gleam 
'Neath  languidly  folded  wings. 
Over  the  delicate  grasses 
A  breath,  a  spirit  passes, 
A  song,  and  the  odor  of  bloom — 
Give  way !  make  room ! 
The  Summer  hath  met  her  lover 
By  day,  by  night; 
He    hath    brought    from    the    stars — bright 

rover ! — 

Heaven's  fire,  heaven's  light! 
He  hath  filled  her  with  life  that  sleepeth, 
That  waits  for  birth, 
As  a  jewel  its  secret  keepeth 
In  the  rock-bound  earth. 

9 


THE    DANCE    OF    THE    SEASONS 

Softly,  slowly 
Dance  and  sway, 
While  Summer  dreameth 
The  moons  away. 
Full  weary  she  seemeth 
Of  love's  deep  bliss, 
But  holy,  holy 
Love's  memories. 

The  idle  day  is  rich  with  budding 

things 

Whereon  the  bold  sun  glares. 
Dance   lightly,   lest  thou   tread   on  folded 

wings, 

Of  flight  still  unawares. 
Ah,  delicate  thy  foot-fall  be,  while  ever 
The  seed  grows  in  the  corn, 
The  bird  in  the  egg,  the  deed  in  the  endeavor, 
The  day  in  the  morn. 

Deep  in  the  pool  the  spawning  fishes  play; 
High  in  the  air  the  bees  buzz  out  their  way. 
Everywhere 
The  children  of  Summer  come  crowding  in 

lustrous  array — 
The  myriad  children  of  Summer,  beloved  of 

the  sun ; 

10 


THE    DANCE    Otf    THE    SEASONS 

Through  the  long  hot  noons  they  are  glad  of 

the  world  they  have  won. 
Bright  and  fair 
They  throng  in  the  meadows  and  shake  out 

the  dew  from  their  hair; 
They  sing  in  the  tree-tops,  they  dip  in  the 

slow-flowing  stream; 
They  nod  from  the  hills,  in  the  valleys  their 

swift  feet  gleam; 
They  kneel  in  the  moon-light,  the  bright  stars 

hear  their  prayer. 
Everywhere 

The  high  sun  blesses  them, 
The  moon  confesses  them, 
Old  Time  with  patient  smile 
Harks  to  their  hope  awhile. 
They  are  born,  they  awake,  their  arise — yea, 

they  dance  in  their  bloom; 
For  their  revels  of  love  and  of  wonder  the 

earth  makes  room. 
Yea,  she  harketh  their  song  for  a  season,  she 

kisseth  their  feet; 
She  giveth  her  all  for  their  hour — be  its  joy 

complete. 

11 


THE:  DANCE   OF  THE  SEASONS 

The  fecund  Summer  then 
Veileth  her  eyes  again — 
Dreameth,  at  rest. 
Young  mother  of  life  who  feedeth 
The  world  at  her  breast ; 
Rich  bride  of  the  year,  who  needeth 
But  love  and  light 
To  give,  and  give  more,  and  give  all 
In  her  great  love 's  might. 
Tread  softly,  give  heed  to  her  call — 
Oh  be  still !  be  fleet ! 

Hush — hush  the  sweet  sound  of  thy  singing; 
Pause — pause,  ye  feet! 
Sink  down !  she  bids  thee  rest 
Close  on  her  breast. 
Down !  down !  thy  rapture  flinging 
Where  all  her  dreams  are  winging. 
Ah,  cease  thy  quest ! 
Peace! — be  blest! 
Be  blest! 


12 


THE   DANCE   OF   THE:   SEASONS 


III— AUTUMN 

Scherzo 

Come  with  me — 
All  that  live ! 
Dance  with  me — 
Love — and  give! 
Give  me  your  love,  ye  souls  of  the  corn  and 

the  vine ! 
Dance  with  me !  laugh  with  me !  crowd  me ! 

be  mine — be  mine! 
Up  from  the  earth  in  your  splendor  of  scarlet 

and  gold — 
Haste,  oh  make  haste  ere  the  warm  rich  year 

grow  old! 

Ye  throngs  that  gaily  rise 
Multitudinous 

As  the  red,  red  leaves  that  flutter 
All  tremulous 

When  the  wind  rides  down  from  the  skies; 
Ye  spirits  that  shout  and  mutter 
In  laughter,  in  pain, 
When  the  year  of  her  sowing  and  reaping 

13 


THE    DANCE)     0$    THE    SEASONS 

Would  waste  again, 

Come,  spend  of  your  treasure,  full  heaping, 

Be  lavish,  be  bold! 

Cast  your  hope  on  the  winds,  from  your  feet 

shake  the  dark  damp  mold; 
Come  dancing,  come  shouting,  come  leaping, 
Ere  the  earth  grow  cold! 

Come,  ye  wings  of  the  air;  come,  ye 

feet  that  trample  the  grasses! 
Come,   ye   tree-top   spirits   that   kindle   the 

leaves  to  flame ! 
Come,  sprites  of  the  sea  that  shout  when  the 

gray  storm  passes ! 
Come,  wraiths  of  the  desert  whom  sorrow  nor 

death  may  tame ! 
Come  eat  of  the  rich  ripe  fruit,  come  drink  of 

the  vine ! 
Come  dance  till  your  revels  are  drunken  with 

joy,  with  wine. 

For  the  labor  is  over  and  done, 
The  spoil  of  the  battle  is  won! 
Ah  trample  it,  scatter  it, 
Cast  it  afar! 

The  tempests  will  batter  it — 
On  with  the  war ! 

14 


THE    DANCE    OF    THE    SEASONS 

Let  your  bright  robes  float,  let  them  whirl 
with  the  rush  of  your  feet — 

The  gauzes  of  crimson  and  gold! 

Give  your  will  to  the  winds — they  are  chas 
ing,  they  haste,  they  are  fleet; 

They  are  eager  and  ruthless  and  bold. 

On !  on !  till  ye  circle  the  earth  with  the  rush 
of  your  dancing, 

With  the  shout  and  the  song; 

Till  your  choral  of  crowds,  like  a  river  in 
flood-time  advancing, 

Bears  all  things  along ! 

Dance !  dance !  for  the  end  comes  soon — 

Do  ye  feel  the  chill? 

White  winds  of  the  Winter  croon 

From  their  cave  in  the  hill. 

Yea,  death  and  the  end  come  soon — 

Spread  your  gaudy  robes! 

Haste !  haste !  for  the  leaves  are  falling. 

Shout!  shout!  for  the  storms  are  calling. 

Give  all,  ere  the  year  grow  old, 

Ere  the  world  grow  cold. 


15 


THE    DANCE     01?     THE    SEASONS 


IV— WINTER 
Finale 

Fly!  fly! 

Gather  your  white  robes  close — 
Scuttle  away! 
Look !  in  the  sky 
The  bleak  winds  mutter  morose 
To  the  swift  dark  day. 
They  gather  and  threaten  and  scold, 
They  shiver  and  shriek  in  their  rage. 
They  are  ashen  and  icy  and  old — 
Ah,  bitter  the  passion  of  age ! 
Flee  from  them !  haste — haste 
Through  the  vengeful  weather ! 
Lest  your  red  blood  chill 
And  your  hearts  stop  still, 
Crowd  close  together 
And  flee  o'er  the  drear  dead  waste! 

Down!  down! 
Out  of  a  sky  all  brown 
The  dark  storm  stoops  to  shrivel  the  world 

away. 

16 


THE    DANCE     01?     THE     SEASONS 

With  ribald  winds  he  strips  her, 
"With  stinging  sleet  he  whips  her, 
With  envious  frost  he  withers  her  green  to 

gray. 

Because  she  was  gay  and  glad, 
Beloved  of  many  lovers,  fruitful  mother 
Of  many  children  crowding  and  killing  each 

other; 

Because  she  was  wasteful  mad, 
Scattering    and    trampling    her    riches    for 

death  to  smother, 
Now  shall  she  starve  and  freeze 
And  pray  on  her  stiffened  knees. 
Now  shall  she  helpless  lie 
And  the  powers  of  the  air  will  mock  her; 
The  spirits  she  dared  defy 
Will  rend  her  and  blind  her  and  shock  her. 
With  white,  white  snow  they  will  bury  her 

passion  deep 

Till  it's  dumb,  till  it's  cold. 
They  will  whistle  and  roar  in  their  triumph, 

and  orgies  keep 
Till  her  heart  grows  old. 
They  will  put  out  her  love-lit  sun  like  the 

torch  at  a  feast, 

17 


THE    DANCE    01?    THE    SEASONS 

And  with  haughty  carousals  make  wanton 

his  court  in  the  east. 
They  will  brush  down  the  stars  like  white 

feathers  far  blown  on  dark  waves, 
And  the  night  will  be  black  as  they  dance  on 

the  ghost-thronged  graves. 

Haste !  haste ! 
Your  garments  are  torn,  they  are  sheeted 

with  ice, 

In  your  wind-loosed  hair 
The  sharp  sleet  rattles. 
Ye  are  hurled,  chased 
To  the  Winter's  lair— 
Ye  have  paid  the  price, 
Ye  have  bled  in  her  battles. 
Now  shelter  your  woe 
And  be  still,  be  still! 

Let  the  night-winds  go  • 

To  their  cave  in  the  hill ! 
Let  the  dark  clouds  flee 
Through  the  gates  of  the  west, 
Till  the  earth  rides  free 
Who  was  sore  oppressed. 


18 


THE    DANCE    OF    THE    SEASONS 

For  weary  of  orgies  that  ravage 

Is  Winter  now. 

From  the  heel  of  a  tyrant  savage 

She  lifts  her  brow. 

Lo,  the  wrath  of  the  storm  is  over, 

And  under  a  moon-white  cover 

Lies  the  world  asleep. 

So  still,  so  pale — 

Dance  bravely,  lest  thou  quail 

And  pause  to  weep. 

Over  the  flower-soft  snow 

Still  as  the  lost  wind  go 

To  open  the  gates  of  day. 

Where  watcheth  yon  lone  pale  star 

Crimson  and  golden  are 

The  curtains  that  shake  and  sway. 

Ah  lift  them !  look,  through  the  rift 

Comes  the  sun  adrift ! 

He  kindles  the  snow  to  fire, 

He  bids  the  dead  earth  aspire. 

Ah  dance!  from  the  year's  white  grave 

New  blooms  will  blow. 

Dance  lightly,  wistfully — save 

The  life  below ! 

Softly !  the  world  is  still — 

19 


THE    DANCE     OF    THE    SEASONS 

Hush  thine  errant  will! 

No  longer  the  dream  pursue! 

Rest — rest,  till  the  dream  come  true ! 

"Wait !  hope !  be  still ! 


20 


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